


Love Is All Around Me

by ghettoassenglishman



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 30 Day Winter Challenge, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Future, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:27:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 30 Day Winter Challenge - ('tis the season of course)</p><p>(http://heckyeahtumblrchallenges.tumblr.com/post/35486362064/winter-drawingwriting-challenge) Based off this list</p><p>Chapter (1) - Ugly Sweaters</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Is All Around Me

**Author's Note:**

> "I realize that when I met you at the turkey curry buffet, I was unforgivably rude, and wearing a reindeer jumper."

It's winter – nearing up to Christmas – and Mickey hated it. Ian had already put up the festive chocolate calendar which he had promised was bought for the consumption of both of them – as predicted, the red-head would get to the numbered door first, taking the festive shaped chocolate and eating it all to himself. Despite Mickey getting frustrated and his sweet-tooth getting incredibly desperate, it wasn't the calendar that irritated him.

Winter brought Christmas and Christmas brought ugly sweaters into the arms of his overly, excited, festive boyfriend.

Ian loved sweaters. He loved the ugly features and slightly miss-stitched Christmas trees on the material. He loved the warmth, the soft texture of the fabric on the inside, he loved the feeling of the season wrapped around him. Really, he just loved making Mickey grunt and groan about how annoying and useless they were – it just made him wear them more.

Mickey, however, hated them. Loathed them, even. He would claim they were too scratchy and tacky, the embroidered pictures wonky and ugly. He believed they were a overused trope for stereotypical, all-American families. He wanted to rid of every single sweater that existed on the planet; they served no purpose, at all, nothing but ugliness that made his boyfriend look like an idiot with a grin on his face.

It irritates the fuck out of Ian; he _wanted_ to be that couple that wore matching sweaters on Christmas day – he _wanted_ to be like Bridget Jones and Mark Darcy making jokes about the ugly shapes against the fabric and the hideous colours. It was hard to persuade Mickey, of all people, to wear one – even a slightly less festive one which had the smalls words _Happy Holidays_ written across it in white print – when all the older boy threatened to do was to burn each sweater Ian had ever brought into the house. 

Ian had even considered pulling one over Mickey's head while he slept; he just wanted to see how adorable Mickey would look in a ugly, green sweater. 

Surprisingly, on a lousy Monday in December, Ian finds himself having the shittest day ever due to his intimidating boss and backstabbing colleagues – which he totally blames on the lack of his favourite jumper – and when he urges his and Mickey's apartment door open, he's welcomed with the sight of Mickey draped across the sofa, fast asleep. 

Now, that sight wasn't unusual – If Mickey had the choice he would sleep there all the time – but it wasn't his boyfriend's peaceful, calm features and low, light breathing that caught his attention so quickly. A broad smile spreads against his face as his mind comprehends what was before him. 

“Mick?” He calls out, whispering. 

There's a muffled sniffle and a laboured groan that comes from the couch and Ian feels his grin growing wider, brighter. When he steps closer he feels his heart flutter. Mickey was bundled up in one of Ian's sweaters – it's his favourite one – the one with the group of elves sprawled across it, all holding an overload of presents in their hands. 

Ian lets out a snort when he sees the sweater against Mickey's small frame. The blanket that Mickey had pulled around himself had dropped to his waist, and Ian could clearly recognise that his sweater was almost three times too big for the other man. Mickey's practically drowning in it, his hands not even visible in the sleeves. It almost made him look like a small child, all curled up on the sofa, waiting for the morning to come. 

Mickey was fucking adorable. 

Ian tries to resist stroking the loose strand of hair away from Mickey's eyes but he couldn't. Mickey looked so damn  _good_ in his sweater and so damn  _cute._ Before he lets himself crawl beneath the blanket to wrap himself around his adorable – yet thug – boyfriend, he turns quickly to their bedroom to change into something other than his bartender uniform, hoping that Mickey didn't wake up before then. 

Luckily, he doesn't. After Ian quickly changes, he quietly sneaks back towards the sofa, wearing his sweat pants and his other ugly sweater that Mickey once threatened puncture holes into. Very carefully, Ian lifts the bottom end of the blanket, letting himself crawl beneath it to lay to across Mickey's ugly-sweater covered chest. 

Mickey jostles in his sleep, a small whine escaping as he starts to shift awake. Ian rests his chin against Mickey's chest, eyes looking up with awe, waiting for the other man to register his presence, a smug – yet fond – smile on his face. 

It only takes a couple of moments – and a near hit to the face – for Mickey to flutter his eyes open, but when he does he attempts to curl into the side of the couch, letting out a groan. His hand falls across his Ian's back, as if to pull him in further, and his eyes close shut again. 

Ian snorts, hands gently caressing the sweater against Mickey's skin. “Thought you hated these.” 

Mickey grunts loudly, his eyes opening, tired, glaring at him. “Shut the fuck up, I was cold.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Ian snickers, moving upwards on Mickey's chest. His hands reach up and cradle Mickey's face, his thumb stroking against the brunette's defined cheek bone. Mickey gives off a shy smile, hiding his face into the palm of Ian's hand, kissing the skin with a peck of his cold lips.

Ian always knew Mickey was a sucker for the sweaters – he hated them that much he  _had_ to love them. It was inevitable. 


End file.
